I lay me down,
Steady and still.
A curtain of white
Drawn to meet
The whispers of
Crows at my feet.
Morning bird,
Bid farewell.
Honeysuckle in
Willow wood that
Bends to weep and
Chirps to sleep with
Merry weather in
Late moon harvest.
Evening song,
Trill soft and low.
Find me a tune
To neighbor the
Mourning of a
Woeful dove,
Bashful as they
Take flight in the
Mist of early dawn.
Here I awaken,
Quiet and barren.
Reach for stardust
That has fallen somber,
Out in meadow's bane to
Speak silence and ponder.
In the garden, I wither.